Force the Willing
by jooceypineapple
Summary: Stiles' virginity is put to the test on countless occasions by bewitched werewolves. Will his friends come to his rescue, or end up as another one of his aggressors? This happens mid-third season, after "Hotel California". MATURE READERS ONLY. Follow and like my story, please! It gives me the motivation to write :) Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf, or any characters mentioned.


Coach was especially grueling at today's track practice. They are called suicide runs because they truly make you wish you were dead. And because Stiles was late to practice due to discussing the hotel incident with Lydia, he got all of coach's adoring, personal attention.

Stiles was never particularly shy about showering with the guys, but he wasn't feeling a group rinse off today. As the other boys headed to the locker room, he darted for the nearest restroom for some privacy.

"Good, it's empty" thought Stiles as he entered, walking into the first stall and locking the door. He took off his sweat-soaked shirt and threw it over the partition wall. He then sat on the toilet, shorts up, putting his chin in his hands.

The thoughts of the hotel were still haunting him. He closed his eyes and tried to think of some rational explanation.

"Maybe the hotel is on a major current? Or cursed. Fuck, I am too tired for this…" After this thought, Stiles quickly fell asleep, face in his hands.

Stiles was jerked awake by the slamming of the stall door a few down from him. "How long was I out?" He stood up, shoved on his now cold and wet shirt, then headed for the locker room.

It seemed quiet enough, almost too quiet.

After undressing in front of his locker, Stiles decided he would take a shower after all.

As Stiles was heading towards the showers, a strong, clawed hand wrapped around his mouth, the other grabbing his wrist and twisting his arm behind his back.

The struggle cost Stiles his towel and the entire naked front of his body was pressed against the cold, metal lockers.

"You're going to give me what I want, and more." Stiles couldn't particularly make out who the voice belonged to, as if it was being altered or distorted.

"If you scream, I'll gut you right here. Understood?" Stiles nodded his head, and the hand drifted away from his mouth down to his neck. "There's nothing like the smell of fear on a virgin. Sweet and loud."

"So I take it you've done this before?" Stiles felt the hand clench his throat to the point of nearly being crushed.

The tongue of his assailant, dry and rough, dragged between his shoulder blades and up the nape of his neck. The goose bumps and shiver were a natural reaction. "You're liking this, aren't you? I've often heard we remember our first forever. Do you want a face to go with your excruciating memory?" Stiles was still in shock and in so much pain, but he knew he needed to know who this was.

"Answer me!" Stiles arm twisted further, and he was sure his throat would close.

"Yes," he choked out, barely above a whisper. Before Stiles could realize what was happening, his back was against the cold lockers, his wrists held above his head by a single hand.

"Now we can have some fun."

Stiles was so shocked he forgot that he was pressed naked between a cold locker and a hot werewolf. He didn't get a chance to speak before Aiden had his mouth against his. This was Stiles' first gay kiss, and barring the situation, not too shabby of a person to be having it with. Stiles turned his head away and extended it back, breathing deep.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"You've been overripe Stiles. I know you want it, and I am going to be the person who gives it to you."

Stiles wasn't sure if he should be excited or horrified; only time could tell.

Aiden pulled Stiles against his body, letting his hands free. There was no way Stiles could fight Aiden, so he decided to listen to his body.

Aiden was still kissing Stiles, fangs and all. Stiles opened his eyes, and to his surprise, Aiden's were also open. But there was something about them that made Stiles' stomach turn. The pupils in his eyes had completely taken over the irises, so his eyes were black.

After a few seconds of eye-locked tonguing, Aiden closed his eyes and adverted his attention to Stiles' neck. Stiles felt every hair on his body stand on end when Aiden cupped Stiles' ass in his hands, spread his cheeks and ran a claw across his hole.

Stiles lifted his legs up and around Aiden's waste, steadying himself by wrapping his arms around Aiden's neck.

"Is it going to hurt?" Stiles had very little breath in his lungs, but managed to peep this quick question.

Aiden broke from his nuzzling for only a second to say "Just you".

Stiles' curious mind wanted to know, needed the answer; however, Stiles' body and hormones were winning. The more liberties Aiden took, the more Stiles wanted to give. Stiles was in a trance, blinded by a primal lust to breed or be bred.

"You taste so sweet, I want more" Aiden bit down gradually on Stiles' nape, as if he was trying to resist temptation.

Stiles' mind is utterly blank, other than the overwhelming thought of Aiden being inside him. Stiles rolls his fingers across Aiden's back, over his collar bone, then his nipple, and finally guides his hand through his legs and beyond his throbbing desire to take a fistful of Aiden.

"If you want more, have more." Aiden's precum causes Stiles' hand to easily glide from head to base. The scent of the vast amount of precum hits Stiles' nose and drives him into a frenzy.

"I need you inside me, **now**," Stiles whines. Suddenly, Aiden's teeth clamp down and Stiles feels hot cum squirt on his thighs. "Fuck, Aiden. I wanted you to cum inside me..."

Aiden drags his fingers through his cum and spreads it over Stiles' hole: "I'm going to use my cum to fuck more deep inside you."

"Stiles, you in here?" Stiles' heart jumps when he hears Scott's voice.

"Ugh, yeah. Give me a second" Stiles looks Aiden in the face, his expression longing. "We can finish this later." Aiden lets Stiles down and turns away, then walks into the showers. Stiles fumbles around in his locker for something to wear.

"Dude, come on. We're going to be late. Deaton said we had to be there by five."

"Give me a second. I need to shower off real quick." Stiles is aware that it's likely Scott will smell Aiden on him whether he showers or not.

"You've had like 45 minutes. What have you been doing?" the annoyance in Scott's voice is apparent.

"I'll explain in the car. Just let me get wet, then I'll drag my ass outta here and we can be on our merry fuckin' way." Stiles run over to the showers. Aiden is standing in the corner, partially masked by darkness. Stiles turns on the shower and stands under it. To his surprise, Aiden doesn't move. He just watches Stiles from the shadows, stroking himself slowly.

"Oh fuck that's hot" Stiles says under his breath as he turns his back to the shower and rinses himself. Stiles figures there isn't much he can do about the smell so he turns around and shuts off the shower. When he turns to look at Aiden, he's gone.

After dressing quickly in his school outfit, Stiles joins Scott in the hall.

"Dude, what happened to your neck?" Scott pesters Stiles about the developing bruises.

"Your mom. I'll tell you when we get to Deaton's. There's something going on, and it's trying to get to the bottom of me."

"What?"

Stiles, "What? Ugh... I mean I'm trying to get to the bottom it. Yeah." They finally get to Stiles' car, and he hopes they can have a reasonably quiet ride to the vet's office.

In the car with the windows up, even Stiles begins to smell himself. "There is no way he can't smell me right now..." He thinks as Scott stares out the window.

"Dude, you smell weird." Scott mentions Stiles' new scent, all to his disdain.

"Yeah, like what?" Stiles tries to hide the nervousness and uptick to his voice.

"You smell...sweet. And salty...It's weird dude. You usually smell like butt."

"Well, you didn't hear me complaining about how you smelled after running around in the woods for a few days with no toothbrush or shower, so, yeah. You're the stinky one dude."

Scott looks over to Stiles with big eyes, "I'm not saying you stink." Scott's eyes were locked on Stiles' lips.

"What?" Do I have something on my face?" Stiles was worried Scott was about to confront him about what happened in the locker room. Whatever that was. It was amazing is what it was. If put on the spot, though, Stiles didn't know if he could answer. He was kind of forced into it, and ashamed that he enjoyed it. Stiles wiped his hand over his face and focused on the road. "What are you going to ask Deaton first?" Stiles' attempt to take the attention off of himself failed. "Stop starring at me. You're bugging worse than Derek."


End file.
